Fiction
The cruel conflict
Even though he has been longing to meet Rehana, Shojib doesn't seem to have been overpowered by a surge of sudden emotion when he finds his love within his reach; rather he looks sedated like a calm sea as if all is quiet on the battlefield. Staying overnight at Nasim's place, he arrives at the Sadarghat terminal right on time to receive Rehana. With a see-through blue chiffon sari tucked in the petticoat under the navel, she is looking seductively attractive. When their rickshaw gets stuck in a notorious traffic jam at Mitford, Rehana lets her head lean against his broad shoulder, insinuating that she is lovestruck. Being indifferent to the surroundings, she gets closer to him and softly says:
"Why didn't you shave today?"
"Don't worry. You won't get hurt." Artfully he lands his left elbow on her right breast, and Shojib is aroused.
Pushing his hand away, in feigned fury she says: "I'll just break it. Then you'll have to beg in the streets."
"That will be wonderful. Then you'll accompany me and I'll eat without doing anything."
When the rickshaw arrives close to the railway hospital roundabout, Shojib tells the rickshawpuller to go to New Market. Simultaneously, he checks whether the money, loaned from Nasim, is right there in his trousers pocket.
It is around midday when the rickshaw reaches Azimpur gate of New Market, which looks relatively calmer as the number of buyers and the girl-watching boys decrease. Seeing Shojib and Rehana entering a café, the manager almost shouts a 'salam' at Shojib, followed by another yelling at the waiter.
"Mainka, did you clean the table? Can't you see who has come?" The manager seizes the opportunity to exercise his authority.
Rehana wriggles out of Shojib's clutch as Mainka steps into the cabin.
Poor boys are pulling rickshaws. College-going students are doing part-time business. Retirees are looking for jobs. Are these what independence has brought about? Rehana is thoughtful and veers off into a philosophical domain, but Mainka doesn't know anything about it. Neither does he need to understand it.
As soon as Mainka moves out of the cabin, Shojib clasps her tight and lands a prolonged kiss on her razor-thin lips.
"Now when I am close to you, you love me. But what happened when you were away? Even after coming to Dhaka how many letters have you written?"
While wiping off the smudged lipstick from around Shojib's mouth, she discharges her contrived emotion that has remained subdued for a long time. Shojib feels greatly relaxed and charged up as tranquility sets in his mind. It is as if a flock of pigeons are flying across his mind's sky with a message of peace.
"Whether or not I write to you, I am always yours. Did I betray you?" He tries to convince her.
Stroking his left cheek with her soft fingers, she fondly says: "Words, words and words only. You are a great wordsmith."
Seeing the middle-aged waiter coming, they quickly relapse into their original position.
"Dhaka is a big city, but there isn't any place for romance," Shojib exudes his stifled displeasure.
Rehana understands what Shojib is trying to imply, and she smilingly says: "Call him, please."
Shojib calls Rahmat Mia in.
Shojib and Habib meet Rahmat Mia every Sunday here. Rahmat arranges ganja for them during that time. While smoking ganja¬¬-filled cigarettes, both of them turn philosophical, and to them Rahmat Mia becomes Rahmat bhai then, assuming an elevated position.
But Shojib is a changed personality now. He doesn't seem to know this man. This unpredictable behavior certainly surprises Rahmat.
Human beings are endlessly complex and mysterious. It needs years to know a human mind.
Stupefied by the suddenness of Shojib's changed persona, Rahmat ludicrously gives him an extended salam, with a synchronized tap on the floor with his shoes, and then he takes out a piece of paper from the pocket of his white prince coat after placing the menu on the table.
"Tell him whatever you want. I don't have any choice." On Rehana's request, Shojib shows Rahmat the chosen item numbers, and in no time Rahmat notes them down and leaves the cabin. Soon after his departure, Shojib hurls a gaping and lingering look at Rehana. It is as if he is trying to unravel something which has remained stashed in her for a long time.
This was the same way he had looked into her eyes while leaving for India for studies. That day Rehana went to the airport to give him a hearty send off.
It's the same lucent eyes, the same pointed nose, but it's not the same Rehana. Although it sounds outlandish, Shojib can't help being skeptical.
Who knows what changes, the color or the vision?
And then the lovebirds gaze into each other's eyes. Finally Rehana withdraws and lowers her head only to scribble on the table with her lacquered fingernails. Breaking the quietness, at one point she says in a quirky way: "What are you looking at?"
The empress of 68, Nayapolton!
That's what he would have wanted to say, but he doesn't say anything. In fact, he can't. With Bhabi's face coming alive in his mind, he simply gets irritated being unable to carry out his revenge plan. Keeping up his pretence of normality, Shojib, however, changes direction and says: "I would love to see so many things, but I can't."
Naïve Rehana fails to gauge what Shojib is up to. Being lovelorn, she leans against Shojib's hairy chest, giving a tacit approval to his likely moves. Taking advantage of her weakness, he slips his hand through her long, thick dusky hair to caress her neck. In apparent satisfaction, she closes her eyes, and when his hand goes further down to undo the hook of the brassiere, she becomes alert and sits up straight.
"You shouldn't try to see everything. There must be some mystery," she takes her stand.
"I want to see and know."
"Knowing is not always good. You will be bored to death." Cryptically Rehana quips.
"Do I have to wait till death then?"
"At least up to our marriage."
"Get Rebeca out of your brother's way first. Then the marriage." Despite his efforts to keep it within, Shojib's ulterior motive comes to the fore.
"What do you mean?" Rehana is shocked and stunned by the disclosure.
"I should have let you know, but sorry, I haven't had the time to tell you about it. It's not that important, but…" Shojib feels claustrophobic in intimacy and pauses to breathe in some fresh air. Right at that time Rahmat comes in with the order: porata and shik kebab.
"What's that? Tell me that." Rehana is gripped by excitement.
"Through Rakib, Bhabi is trying to eat up Rebeca. I don't want to see any relationship happening between Rakib and Rebeca. In no way will I tolerate Bhabi's expansionism," Shojib announces his resolve.
"But they love each other."
"Love! Pooh! Everything is politics of power and authority." While eating, Shojib takes a swipe at the powerful persons who determine the destiny of powerless people.
Rehana keeps looking at him with increasing curiosity.
Being a lover himself, how can Shojib be such cruel? Rehana wonders.
While Shojib remains an enigma to Rehana, Rebeca, his sister, becomes another mystery to her as well. Rebeca is in love, too. How's she like? At the moment this is a billion dollar question for Rehana, and this question crosses her mind while she looks at Rebeca who has been listening to a running commentary over a transistor radio, sitting on the balcony of 68, Kakrail. A little while ago some crows, like jazz music, had been cheeping at different scales. Since then, Abahoni strikers have been making forays into the Mohammedan defense time and again, and pensive Rebeca looks lost in thought from then onwards. As soon as Montu points his toy gun at the crows, they fly away. And from then on, Mohammedan forwards have been conducting coordinated attacks on the Abahoni defense. Rebeca also looks happy, and there is a tinge of brightness in her face.
On the other hand, Rehana looks sullen since her last meeting with Shojib. Leaning against the railing of the balcony, she gives a blank look at the terrace of the adjacent building. A stout young man is flying a kite up there. Turning the radio off, Rebeca comes close to Rehana and whispers: "You know the boy is the eldest son of our house-owner. He is studying medicine at Dhaka Medical College."
(The next segment of this short story will appear next week).
For all latest news, follow The Daily Star's Google News channel.
Comments